A deal worth a 1,000 years
by Mr.PineAppleFlayva
Summary: "...I have died everyday waiting for you...But darling, don't be afraid for I have loved you for a thousand years and I'll love you for a thousand more..."
1. Chapter 1 An Unexpected turn of Events

A Deal Worth a 1,000 Years: By Paperz Mate

"…Draw a circle, that's the earth!" Chubby, little hands scribbled on a piece of paper, creating various lines with multiple colors. It was the year 1806, a time of hard ship in master Austria's house. Along with living with his young wife, Hungary, a couple of maids, a few butlers and plenty of servants; and among those servants was the infamous, pasta loving, cheerful, naïve, and artistic, funny little boy (or girl according to some people) we all knew as Italy. He's _one_ of the great roman descendants, being the grandson of a deceased Empire that ruled almost all of the Mediterranean land.

Italy was currently sitting on a small hill top, overlooking the small town that he stayed with his Master, and drawing away with many of his favorite crayons. Lately he has been coming up on top of this very hill, resting his back against the bark of the shady tree, after he was done doing his daily chores Austria orders him to do, and sketched away. He wouldn't let anyone know, but he was feeling quite lonely these past few days. His best friend, or roommate some would say, has been gone for quite a while. Periodically, Holy Roman Empire would travel back home to meet Italy again before going off to battle a couple days later, but he hasn't made face in weeks. The last time HRE (Holy Roman Empire) came, the young boy adorned various cuts and abrasions, and one so deep that it made Italy sick to see him that way, but despite all that, HRE continued to laugh and smile with him. His strength reminded Italy so much of his late grandfather…that it hurt.

Italy glanced back up at the sunny, clear blue skies, watching a couple of birds fly above the clouds going west. The sunflower patch bloomed largely, as he could see in the distance. When HRE was here, he would take a trip with him to the Nursery and just bask in the sunflowers, often ending up playing a small game of hide and go-seek with the little Empire. But Italy sighed; those days didn't seem to exist anymore. Now all everyone seemed to have time for was war and Italy hated fighting…

* * *

England watched the battle rage onward from his magical glass bulb. This didn't look too good, as his older brother France wasn't faring to well in the battle against HRE. He watched him struggle as he tried to avoid getting his torso slit in half. Instead of puncturing a wound, HRE sent France flying into a boulder that was dangerously close the edge of the cliff. "That little boy is just too strong. Any longer, and that Frog wouldn't last… I have to stop this!"

"And just how are you going to manage that? The fight has nothing to do with you and I suggest you stay put!" His King ordered. England shook his head, "No, It does have something to do with me, and the whole world actually. If I don't stop HRE in his tracks, the whole world will be in ciaos! I, Prussia, Spain, Austria, Hungary, the new world, everything will be gone if this boy wins! My lord, do you understand?" England pleaded; his emerald green eyes glazed with grief and worry, a look that King George III hadn't witnessed in this spunky country.

"Are you certain of this?" He asked suspiciously. He, himself, was starting to worry about his place in the world. Was that _git_ really something to be feared? England nodded, "If HRE wins that battle, the Roman era would begin a new, then it will be the end of the world, our new world." The thought of the George III's Kingdom crashing down before his very eyes disturbed him greatly. If that little boy is as bad as England says, then imagine when he's older.

"I can't imagine what would drive this young boy wild to release his tensions out on unnecessary war, but if he is truly evil, England, I therefore grant you permission to go over there and put an end to this." The king waved his stick out in front of the teenaged nation, intrusting him that he has all rights to go. Without a moment's hesitation, the Englishman bowed his respects to the royal blood and vanished into thin air.

* * *

France stumbled over, gasping for air as his side has been slit open by the little nation. Holy Roman Empire landed gracefully on the broken concrete and pulled his silver sword back into his pouch. By looking at his state, he guessed he wouldn't need it. Instead he casually sat down on the piece of slavered stone and mocked him, spitting obnoxious raspberries at the teenage Frenchman. France rolled his eyes, "You know if you weren't so cute, I would've killed you by now. "He growled. The little boy smirked, "Oh yea, then what are you waiting for, frog face?"

France took a moment to stand up, taking his time so he won't bleed so much and tear his skin, _oops too late…_

"Holy Fuck!" he panted, clutching his side. HRE seemed to take pleasure in his pain and didn't bother to cover up his laugh. France on the other hand, felt _delighted, _"You _demon…_What did you try to do, cut out my kidney's?"

The Holy Roman Empire shrugged, "I don't know, but it didn't take a lot of effort. You sure are a pathetic country though. Tell me, is it the girls that soften you up, or it is the boys?"

France glared back at the vindictive child, "Oh, Why don't you come over here and find out?" A murderous looked was casted over his features that it sent slight chills down the little empire. "STOP!" a voice interjected. Before either could make a move, a cloud of smoke appeared, dusting the battle field with glittery tiny particles, almost like…pixie dust?

The two nations near the cliff side glanced upwards to see a small, about the size of a large carrot, man with minty green fairy wings and dressed in simple clothing made of leaves and random weeds. The little guy had twigs stuck in his hair and he adorned a thick pair of brown _caterpillars_…eyebrows, which nearly took over his entire forehead. He scowled at both of them below, mainly at HRE, glaring at them with his emerald green eyes.

"What is that?" they chorused in unison. The Mythical flying creature lowered himself from mid air to ground level, landing on a dried up and damaged olive branch.

"I'm your adviser, call me Iggy. "he replied. France, despite the unbearable pain on his side, couldn't pass up the moment to realize something… "Angleterre?"

HRE quirked his brow, "Now that you mention it, you do look familiar?" The little Empire squinted, his little nose scrunched up.

The fairy rolled his emerald green eyes, "Never mind that, but listen up you poor saps!" He scolded. "Under the Order of King George III, you are to surrender your army, Holy Rome." The young nation looked astonished, " Why shoud I?" he retorted, drawing his sword to slash at the fairy. Iggy easily evaded the attack, and landed on the body of the sword, staring right back at him.

"If you really value this world I suggest you stop where you are. You're about to create a big mistake Holy Rome, and I will not allow a child to mess the whole planet up, with your selfish ways." The fairies words stabbed Holy Rome's being, cutting deeper into his heart. He felt like he couldn't take it anymore.

"EXPLAIN YOURSELF!" he huffed. He will not be treated like this, by a stupid fairy of all things!

Iggy, "I can say the same to you. Tell me young Lord, what ails you so to go out and fight to the death?"

"It's…This is embarrassing." He muttered. The Fairy face-palmed himself, "Oh c'mon!" he pressed, urging for the Empire to cough up whatever he has to say in his defense.

The boy blushed a fuchsia pink, suddenly feeling light headed at the thought of his sweet little maiden waiting at home, for him to return. "It's because I am in Love." He declared softly. Both Iggy and France stood back, stunned. France whistled, "Is that so? Little Holy Rome got himself into L'amor? Ohohohohn~ this is invigorating!" he snickered. The Fairy was in the least a bit baffled. "Oh really?"

The Boy nodded, "Yes, Ever since the 900's, I've loved this person, and I'll do almost anything to protect her!"

Iggy was understanding, going along with his reasoning. "So you mean to tell me that you'll do anything to protect her?"

"Yes, I'll even sacrifice myself for her is that's what It takes. I just want her to be happy and not live under the Austrian bastard!" he declared once more. France remained silent, knowing full well who he was referring to. Iggy smirked, "Well, this proposition won't go as bad as I thought."

"What do you mean?"

* * *

It was becoming late in the day and Italy needed to arrive home before dusk. Picking up his things, the little nation skipped all the way back to the house in the country side, passing through the towns shopping district to pick up a few apples before going home. After paying a single copper coin for a basket full of apples, Italy began his small trek home, and that's when he noticed something slightly off with the towns people. They all seemed more relaxed than usual…and happier?

"Hello Mr. Knut!" He greeted his favorite candy shop owner. The old man smiled down warmly at him, "Good evening to you too, Feli, how are you?" The Italian brought his little fingers up, connecting his thumb and forefinger together, forming an 'O' for ok. "Buono!" he grinned. The old man chuckled, "Ah, so you are in high spirits too? Hmm, I guess the war being over is really having effect on people these days."

What? The war was over? Since when did this happen? "Huh?" The old man scrutinized the young lad, "Oh, I haven't you heard? The townsmen were boasting about it all afternoon. Then the soldiers just marched back home." Little Italy was utterly confused…yet delighted to hear.

"Well, that's just fantastic! I better get home now, my friend must be coming back and I said I'd wait for his return! Good bye!" and with that in mind, the little Italian ran off into the distance with a cloud of dust covering up his path. Mr. Knut sat back and watched the youngster take off like forest Gump. But there was one important detail that the old man had neglected to tell the child…_not that it should matter_, he thought.

Italy raced up the cobble stone steps and basically broke in through the back door and stumbled into the kitchen. He hastily sat the apples down on the kitchen floor and ran out into the living room area, where his master would usually play his authentic, ivory keys and make the maids swoon. But as he entered the living room, Italy did not hear the harmonic chords of the piano, nor did he see the presence of his master and his wife.

Instead he heard dead silence, much quieter than it usually is on a daily basis. "Hello? Anyone home?" he called. He looked down both hallways, no one answered. But he heard murmuring at one end of the hall. He cautiously took silent steps towards the left, the heels of his shoes clacking against the tile. As he gotten closer to the door that was left slightly ajar, he peeped in and saw Austria and Hungary hugging each other. It wasn't like those warm hugs they would give each other when you want to show affection of love, but one of those hug where one person leaned on the other's to cry on, and Italy never seen Hungary so sad, not even Austria. But there was one thing on his mind…if the old man had said that the soldiers had marched home…where was Holy Rome?

The thought of his best friend never returning to him made Italy want to break down and cry, right there, on the floor, like a little toddler who gotten their candy stolen from them by a mean ol' bully. Before he could silently leave the two alone to look for his friend, The Hungarian nation had already spotted Italy peeping at them from the corner of her eye. "Italy?" she sniffed, her eyes glazed and rimmed with red. The Austrian looked up and turned to see his little curl poking out from between the cracks of the doorway. He didn't want to give up his hiding place yet!

"Italy, come out from there." He ordered, but his voice was a little choked. Italy shyly pushed his way inside the room, with his hands folded in front of him, fingering the fabric of his stained up apron. He didn't want to budge any further, as he didn't like this cold atmosphere.

The Hungarian girl stooped down to pick him up and gently rocks him in her arms to try and calm him down. Austria sits there on the bed, not bothering to look up at them.

"Hungary?"

"Yes Sweet heart?"

"Why are you so sad?"

That one, simple question just made the strongest woman Italy knew, break down into a racking sob, as he felt her fat tear drops rain on his little head nuzzled on the of her neck. He looked up at his sister-figure, trying to pat the wetness on her cheeks dry. Italy failed miserably, only making her cry more. He started getting scared, "Why are you acting like this? Austria?" He asked, trying to get his master to speak up. The Austrian seemed colder than ever as he only glared back at them. Italy didn't like this feeling. What made his family become this way? The Hungarian girl cuddled Italy with her until she stopped her crying frenzy long enough to answer his question directly.

"Hungary?" he asked, once again, wearily. This time she nodded, wiping her eyes dry and cleaning her nose of the discharge with a hanky. "Yes Italy?"

Italy then chose his words more carefully, "Where…where is he?"

"Where is who?"

"Uh…Holy Rome?"

The sound of his name leaving his mouth never felt so bitter.

Hungary swallowed the large lump in her throat before answering,

"He's…Holy Rome…disappeared…"

* * *

That day, On Tuesay of October 3rd, 1806, The Holy Roman Empire was Formally dissolved from the face of the earth, never to see young Italy again...But it also marked a beginning for a new Era, as a little boy in place of the Holy Roman Empire was born.

"What should we name him?" The prussian held the little nation, wrapped in a white sheet of his cape. The albino held the little guy close to his chest, admiring those clear blue eyes that seemed to pierce right through his soul.

"He looks like he's going to be a rather strong one." One of his soldiers remarked. Prussia smiled softly, indeed.

"Little one, you will be known as Germany...my awesome little brother."


	2. Chapter 2 To be Free

**A deal worth 1,000 years- By Paperz Mate**

**Part 2- To be Free**

_Italy was sweeping the courtyard on a fine, sunny morning, cleaning up all the excess leaves that blew in from the breezy autumn nights. Around the corner, not too far away from Italy, was a young boy, around the age of ten, spying on his secret crush. Holy Rome did this every day since he had Italy move in with him. Ever since the day he arrived home from a rather long day in town, he picked up a bad habit in becoming Italy's stalker._

_Holy Rome cautiously stepped up to the child that was happily snoozing away in the giant shade of the apple tree in the area. Her little push broom pinned up against the bark of the tree and a bucket of apples sat next to it. Little Italy had apple juice smeared on his already stained, crème apron, and his little pudgy hands sticky with munched up apples he previously been eating. Holy Rome bit back a giggle, as he watched him sleep in an untidy way, but he thought it was cute._

_Taking off his cap, he set himself aside by the sleeping form and pulled off his cape to sit on instead of messing up his trousers that Italy went through the trouble of washing, the other day. _

"*_Voglio __essere libero...santo roma...then we can eat...pasta...every...day" Holy Rome stared at his sleeping beauty, not able to translate what his Italy said in the begining...but was only able to grasp the ending, assuming that he was talking about him when he said 'we'. But Holy Rome did know that italy wouldn't say those things in his sleep unless something was worrying him, since his friend often gets premonitions (he thought it was pretty cool too), but all this could mean something...but he just didn't exactly know what..._

_Before holy rome could ponder what Itay had been spouting in his sleep, the little nation woke up, with a rather loud yawn, his eyes forming sleep tears as he stretched his small limbs out like a cat, then flopping over on his side, facing his friend.._

"_Holy Rome?" he questioned in a small voice. Holy Rome just stared blankly at him, his muscles not cooperating with his brain. "Italy, wha...why did you wake up?" The empire intwardly smacked himself. Why did you wake up? What kind of question was that? Why could he just say hello and done with it? Ahh too many questions!_

_The Italian smiled, "Because my siesta time is over. And I need to go back to work. Master isn't going to like it that I didn't bring back his bucket of apples and wash the dishes, and sweep the floors, and wash his underwear, and sweep some more, and then cook, and then feed his messenger owls...although the black one is kind of creepy..." In just minutes the italian started ranting about the owls personalities and that's when the empire starting feeling bad for him. All he ever really does was chores...even if he is a nation, everyone saw him as a girl so he wasn't being educated. Besides that, he wasn't really even allowed outside of Austria's house, which was a shame because Italy was missing out on alot of activities...That's It!_

"_ITALY!" The empire caught the nation's attention, putting his rant on pause. "Si?" he quivered. Hoy Rome stood up, and pulled his cape on along with his hat, then lifted the italian with a little tug on his hand, "I know what we're going to do today!" _

* * *

_After explaining a few things to Hugary, Holy Rome and Italy was off to the busy town square, where the attractive music festival was held. Italy glanced to his friend worriedly, "Are you sure it's alright for us to leave? Austria will be pretty mad at us when he finds out...and Hungary will be all by herself..." For once, the empire was getting a bit tired of his constant worries, but he understood why. It was going to be the first time in atleast a decade Italy has been out of that blasted house, and Austria deemed a rather scary impression on Italy sinced he moved in. _

_Holy Rome couldn't help but admire the italians choice of clothing. Since it was his first time out, he decided to wear something special for the occasion, which was a dark teal dress the Hungarian maiden forced him into, along with white leggings and a pair of his best shoes. Up to this day, Italy had no idea why cross dressing was so fashionable. It was a wonder why everyone thought he was a girl instead of a boy , but like always, he had no say in the situation, so he just had to deal with it for the mean time. _

"_Don't worry so much, you'll have a great time." He smiled reasurringly. Italy smiled aswell, then clung onto his arm as they weaved through the massive bodies in the street. They tried not bringing too much attention to themselves, but they couldn't help but blush when people walked past them and gave them signs of approval. Many of the ladies in the area cooed at their cuteness, and men winked back at Holy rome, or giving him a thumbs up. Italy on the other hand, was oblivious to the signs, and just acted like everything that came there was nothing, besides, it wasn't like they were on a date...were they?Nah! They were both boys, how could they be on a date?_

_As the rest of the night unfolded in front of their young eyes and ears, Italy has never expericanced such wonderful music, not since the renaissance period! What had suprised him even more was that his master was up on the stage, playing a few bars of his favorite song. When the austrian looked up at the audiance, Italy's heart paced rapidly, then worry struck him. He glanced up at his friend, who seemed too caught up in the festival to realize any of this. _

"_Mio Dio! Holy Rome, we have to go, i got to go!" he started panicing. He didn't want to get punished again! So italy let go of the empire's hand and speeded off into one direction, getting lost in the crowd. _

_It took a moment for holy rome to realize that Italy ventured off to god only knows where and it put him into a state of shock when he finally noticed that the pianist on stage was Austria._

"_Oh no! Italy, we have to go before you get into trouble...Italy?"._

* * *

_Italy ran as fast as he could, gathering the damned dress around his knees so he could run better. He just knew this was a bad idea! Nobody ever listened to him when it came to these kind of situations, but he had to admit, he had a good time. It was also one of the first times he's seen Holy Rome smile like that and it was rather nice..._

_He stopped running when he neared a local bakery in the vacant copple stone road. Italy had no idea where he really was, just that he was somewhat aware that he was closer to the house. He vaguely remembered coming here once with Hungary, although they didn't linger long enough for Italy to grasp anything, as they were only passing by. _

_Now that day was quickly turing into night, he had no idea how far he is or why exactly he just took off with out his friend, just that he felt a sudden wave of panic. He now regretted leaving Holy rome and willed himself not to cry about it, too bad that the situation was just getting worse when dark clouds arrived over the small town and began to drizzle. _

* * *

_Holy Rome mentaly cursed himself, he should've been paying more attention, then he wouldn't have let his friend get out of his sight. _

_If only he had been listening to Italy...but it already too late as the rain clouds forced the festival to end early. Now everyone was trying to get out of the rain and pack up before the instruments and other props get wet. _

"_ITALY!" he called out. He turned to every other civilian, asking every so often about them seeing a short kid about his age in a teal tunic running in a random direction, until one particular couple nodded, pointing towards a sharp curve, leading near a strip of food stalls. _

_Of course, how could he not think of that! This was Italy he was hunting for and only Italy would run into food. _

_The road was vacant and dimmly lit as he ran past every shop until he spotted a funny looking curl on a very familiar person sitting inside a little pastry shop by the glass window. _

"_Italy!" he called. _

_Said person looked up with a hot cinnamon bun wegded between his cheeks, faintly hearing his name into the distance, then he heard the clang of the bell erupt in the shop, revealing himself to be the empire he ditched at the festival. _

"_It-Italy!" he panted, stepping heavly to him, all soaked from the rain, but the he didn't mind. _

"_Why...Why did you...you run off like that?" he cried into his shoulder. Italy, calmly, for once, patted his back and rocked him gently._

"_Mi dispiace santo roma, I did not mean to scare you like that. I paniced when I saw Mr. Austria so I did what I thought I shoud do...I shouldn't have left you like that..." _

_The Empire pulled pack and gingerly kissed his forehead, which surprised the little nation. _

"_It's okay, you're safe...and hungry, Italy, why is it that you are always so hungry?"_

_Italy giggled and shrugged, "I don't know?"_

_Holy Rome sat infront of him and reached into Italy's plate, without permission, and took a big bite out of the pastry Italy decided to snack on for the evening. His head nodded in aproval, " These are good." Italy chimed in with a laugh. For once, he never felt so free and alive with just eating a cinnamon bun._

* * *

Italy stared back at the untouched cinnamon buns infront of him, as his mood clearly not light as it should be. Hungary decided to take him out and buy him some new cloths since Italy had an unexpected growth spurt that forced him to become 5 inches taller than he used to be just a week ago. And since it was nearing around lunch time and they haven't had any breakfast, she decided to make a pit stop at the little pastry shop near their house before walking back home.

She expected him not to really eat it, as Italy wasn't in much of a mood to do anything lately. The 'death' of his bestfriend took a great toll on him, and it didn't seem like it'll be stopping anytime soon. She trulely felt bad for him though, the kid had no allies, all his brothers either wanted his inheritance or they aren't too fond of him, the two most important people to him are now deceased and it all happened in a matter of few hundred years. He was barely even a preteen yet and was put under alot of stress, also Europe around this time was just recovering from war...Hungary felt it in her bones.

"Italy, c'mon sweet heart, eat up, lunch won't be until Austria comes back and lord knows how long he'll be gone in those damned meetings..." but Italy didn't stir, instead he ignored her and looked out the window. His pastry was getting cold, but he could care less about that, hell, even pasta wasn't as appetizing as it used to be...

Instead of doing what he's told, Italy pushed back the plate of Cinnamon buns and smiled, "I'm not very hungry, how about we go home?" And they decided to pick up their belonings and head out into the road back home with a slight breeze under the sunny skies. Hungary couldn't help but notice how silent and nonchalant Italy has been acting all day...everyday since Holy Rome disappeared, which was nearly six months ago.

"Italy?" she tried again, but no response. Rolling her eyes, she sighed, "God help this child." She muttered under her breath.

"Hungary?" he suddenly said, as he caught her attention. He glanced back at her with uncertainty in his eyes, something she hadn't seen him with, at all. "Why does it hurt?" Hungary blood grew cold, she began to worry. "Why does what hurt? Are you sick?" she suddenly pressed her palm on his forehead and cheeks. Italy shook his head, "No, that's not what i meant." The hungarian squinted at him quizically, "Then what is it?"

Italy took a moment to respond, but then hesistated, fearing that she'll be judgemental about it, as it was her nature. "L...Love? Why does it hurt?" the look on her face made him want to cry. He was right, she was going to be judgemental about it.

"Well, it's not love if it hurts. What kind of foolishness are you thinking about? Are you in love Italy? Is that why you're walking around like the living dead?" the last comment forced a tear to break out from his over active tear ducts. Then it all clicked, she could be so slow sometimes., "Ohh, i see. No wonder you're so down in dumps lately, It was Holy Rome wasn't it? I Knew it!" she clapped her hands together at her late discovery.

If Italy was in a better mood, he would've laughed at her, but instead, he realized that her inability to see what's bothering him made him feel like the loniest kid in the world. Holy Rome would've been able to see what was wrong with him in a matter of seconds, no matter how well he plays it off.

"Si. I loved him, alot...then Big brother france had to kill him...Why? Why did he have to kill him? " soft sobs racked his chest as he tried to breathe evenly. "He told me he'll come back for me after the war ended and then we'll become strong together...but I told him I wouldn't come with him because I didn't want us to end like grandpa Rome. I told him I wouldn't beable to take it...but it happened anyways... I'm hurting alot and I don't think I'll beable to stop soon..."

Hungary, for once, saw what life was sort of like for little Italy. He was truely alone in the world where noone would beable to understand him. And for once she saw that Italy might have been the saddest little kid she ever witnessed.

"Feliciano." She spoke in a gentle, yet authoritve tone. The italian wiped his eyes furiously, then looked up at his older sister figure. "Si?"

"Feli, as sad as it is...you can't give up. Holy Rome went to war for you, and he dies for your freedom, so don't take his death for granted. Instead, live for him, yes? Instead of moping around, think of all the new possiblilties that await for you now! You're growing up very fast and you have alot to learn before you can officially call yourself a country. Remember, by the time you are sixteen you should have all the requirments: Language, government, currency, education, culture..etc! You can't give up now, there is so much waiting for you in the future, and all these things happen for a reason. Who knows, you may even find another Holy Rome! I hear there's another country developing in the area and he's growing rapidly, figures though, he's being raised by that damned prussia...I hope he turns out handsome though..."

As Italy listened to Hungary's nonstop rant about jibberish, Italy supposed that she is right about one thing, that everything happens for a reason, and if his friend died for his freedom, then Italy supposed that he would try his best to do, become his own dependant. And his education was the key. He may have looked about nine years old, but the process of aging is slowed as a country as opposed to a human and it also depends on the current situation at the time in their country, if he'd be ill it'll mean that a depression struck or a natural an unexpected growth spurt could mean that he's developing economically or geographically, so all in all, he was mentally ready to be challenged with complex theories and crititcal thinking a person of that age would have the ability to do.

Italy glanced up at the cloudy, blue skies, watching as the native birds of Austria soar through the sky, and then he could swear that he vivdly saw the outline of his deceased friend smile down at him from above.

_don't be afraid~ _ he could swear he heard his voice in the wind and his cloudy mouth move so slowly as he said that. And for the first time in weeks, Italy smiled.

_Thank you, my friend.~_

_And maybe one day, I'll find another Holy Rome, although i'm not sure when or how it'll happen, but I will find him again, one day..._

* * *

**_*__Voglio __essere libero- I want to be free_**

**_To Be Continued..._**


	3. Chapter 3 An illusion or reality?

**A deal worth a 1,000 years- By Paperz Mate**

**An illustion or reality?**

In the Few weeks that Gilbert had taken in his new underling, he wasn't as busy with politics as he should be. Instead, he stayed at home, whenever he could and looked after his adopted younger brother. After all, Iggy left him under his care, which was a risk all on its own.

"Preußen!, Preußen!" little bare feet darted down the polished, tiled floors. The little boy with light golden hair and golden skin hurridly looked for his older brother and mentor, with a bundle wrapped in his arms. He smelled of the pine forests just outside the manior and he left a trail of dirt inside the house. His chubby cheeks were flushed as his overalls were soiled with dirt and lake water.

The bundle in his arms weren't giving him much ease eigther, as it clawed at him whenever he jerked too fast around the corner, or it felt as if it were to fall when the boy holding it stumbled into something. Seriously though, where was his older brother when he actually needed it this time?

"Preußen!, Preußen!" he called again, this time getting a little out of breath as he nearly ran through the whole entire house, which was really great and majestic to a child that is about 4ft tall. Looking both ways down the fall, he noticed the one that had the door left ajar. The little boy inched closer to the door as he listened intently to the violin playing soothingly in the room. It wasn't the clipped tune he was used to when the boys of the choir would play under the strict teacher, nor was it anything like the fluent piano keys that the cranky austrian aristrocrat would play in his free time. The person who was playing the violin played it with as mush passion as Gilbert fought, as if he the violin was singing instead of being manually played with.

Then a voice erupted when the player ended his song, the voice belonging to someone he's been looking for.'' Gute Arbeit kid!" And the room resounded with claps, belonging to more than one person.

"You play with such passion Mon enfant! Just like your boss, except he plays the guitar…" A French accent complimented, but all he heard in response was a string of curses and grumbles. "Aw… Que Lindo! You're blushing like a tomato! A cute one too."

When the little German nation heard that last comment, he decided that his little issue could wait, but instead the small animal in his arms wriggled out and decided to take off into the room he was just going to avoid. He knew Gilbert didn't like interruptions and he knew he didn't like it when he interfered, even if he didn't express his distaste.

* * *

A shrill irrupted in the room as so where a few clangs and laughs later until the door burst open to reveal a smirking albino with piercing red eyes and a dirt covered dog thrashing around in his choking grasp. Germany gaped as the small dog squeaked when Gilbert growled. But Germany knew better than to cower in front of his trouble making brother, instead he put his toughest glare and stood his ground against him, although in the inside his heart sped up. He thought he might have peed his patched up under wear again.

"And who might this be, Ludwig?" He questioned the younger nation. Germany softened his gaze as he looked into the dogs big watery eyes. "It's my new friend. I named her Berlitz." He replied back. Prussia's friends in the room muttered a few things to themselves as they stifled a laugh, careful not to hurt the younger person's feelings. Except for a certain little Italian boy with a hot head and a mean temper.

"What a loser! He thinks that smelly dog is his friend!" As if the puppy had understood what Romano said about it, the dog jumped out of Gilbert's arms and ran to tackle the stingy Italian boy. "UAHHH! Get it OFF ME!" he sobbed, obviously not a dog person.

"Berlitz, down girl!" the puppy obeyed the German nation and left to sit next to his new master. Prussia, Spain, and France all looked astonished at the simple order. "Wow Germany, you're a great dog whisperer!"

Spain laughed along with his friend France.

Germany looked lost in thought, "A dog whisperer? Gilbert, what's that?" he looked up to his mentor, "Ahh, it's someone who understands dogs and therefore, the dog obeys without a fight." Ludwig let the new information sink in, "So does that mean you're a bird whisperer?"

The Prussian nodded, "Good guess mien kliene! You know something Ludwig, you're a smart kid."

"Yea, I knew he was a smart one when he declined my treat." France frowned. Spain's eye twitched at the memory, "France, nobody likes to be groped anyways, and it's really sick of you to call it a treat you perverted wine bastard!" At that Romano had to let out a small giggle, everyone seemed to notice that Spain's little henchmen liked pain or something related to negative humor…but nothing in the genre where France was concerned.

Germany glanced at the Italian boy for a moment, as if he seen him before. Prussia noticed the nation's gaze then realized that he and Romano have never met.

"Ahh, Ludwig, this is Lovino Vargas, the oldest Italian brother, also known as the Southern region of Italy or Romano. He's Spain's little henchman, and Romano, this is my younger brother, Ludwig Beilschmidt, also known as the west of me, Germany." The Prussian smiled fondly at the title he's given the young blond boy. Germany smiled at the taller boy politely but he just scowled at him. A Little intimidating bastard if you asked him. But Germany Knew better than to fear a pasta-loving coward, so in turn he fixed his gaze into a piercing hard glare. Romano's eyes widened a fraction, and then studied him carefully.

* * *

Spain noticed the immediate change in attitude, so he pulled Romano back into him and whispered into his ear, "Romano, _que paso_? What's the matter?" Romano glanced back at him with worry evident in his hazel eyes. His brows knitted together and a small frown formed on his mouth, "Antonio, I want to go home." He said bluntly. Spain blinked, did he hear correctly? Wasn't it his idea to come along on the trip? Didn't he hate his home?

"Well … I don't think you can tonight, I'm here on a mission Romano and you promised to stay by me." Romano shook his head, "Aren't you passing through Italy? I want to go to my home." The sudden interest to go home kind of startled him. As France and Prussia continued mingling with the German nation, Spain pulled Romano into the hallway.

"Ok Romanito, what's the matter? Seriously, why all of a sudden you want to go home? I thought you liked it here with me." Romano shuffled his feet and wringed his tunic in his hands wrinkling it. He felt Spain's fore and middle finger gently left his chin up to look at Romano in the eyes, "Look at me when I'm talking to you." He ordered softly. Romano grew flushed in the cheeks, and his heart paced erratically in his chest. He was a shy kid at times.

"I…I need to see my brother…" Spain quirked his brow, "Feliciano can wai-No!" Romano interrupted him, "_NO_, It's urgent. That German jerk is alive. Don't you know?" Spain shook his head, "Romano, what are you talking about?"

Romano soon grew short tempered, "You're telling me you don't notice! Germany is HRE! HRE is alive!" Spain stared blankly at his henchman for a moment, taking in the information too slow for Romano's taste.

Spain sighed and ruffled his small auburn head, "You are a kind brother Romano, but I'm afraid you're seeing things. HRE no longer exists, kind of like you and your grandpa Romano. You look strikingly like your Grandfather, but that doesn't mean that he exists anymore. Maybe in one sense he does because you are the descendant, but that's different." Spain smiled down at him, then gave him a warm hug, "Maybe that long ride here made you a bit delirious. And you missed your siesta on top of it all."

Romano silently listened to his Master and pouted. He really did see something! But Spain had a point, just because they look alike, didn't mean that it's actually him. Romano stubbornly fought a yawn and rubbed his tired hazel green eyes. Spain picked him up and rocked him soothingly back and forth, just like how he done many times when he wants Romano to sleep.

"Let's go to bed, Romano."

Romano yawned again, clasping his arms around his neck, looking behind Spain as he trudged them up the steps. Then, he barely saw the outline of what he thought was the Holy Roman Empire staring at him as Spain carried him away into the room. When he reopened his eyes again, all he saw was the German boy looking up at him, with his new pet trailing behind him.

Maybe Spain was right, maybe it was his imagination.

* * *

**Ok People, Third Part is up! Huh, that must be a record...Chapter 2&3 up in the same day...I felt constructive xD**

**Once again, To be continued...**


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